posted on Feb, 27 2020 @ 06:33 PM
Burt Dismay was the COO of the infamous VIP Star Cruise Line, the extravagant cruise line that bragged about being the safest cruise line in the
world. How ironic that every ship they ever managed sits on the bottom of various oceans across the world full of perished souls.
The height of their arrogance was the maiden voyage of the largest cruise ship ever built, the Coliseum of the Oceans, frequently referred to as it's
more simplified name, the Coliseum.
When you think Coliseum, you probably get visions of gladiators goring each other to the delight of cheering demons. Yeah, hold that thought because
the Coliseum's maiden voyage wasn't far from that nightmarish display.
The Coliseum must have had it's passengers wishing they were on the Titanic instead.
It truly was an impressive display of obnoxious luxury. The Coliseum was a mind-numbing 2,000 feet long, 250 feet wide and 30 decks tall. For those
of you that are not familiar with cruise ship dimensions, it was almost twice as long as the longest cruise ship ever built, almost twice as wide and
had almost twice as many decks.
It had a passenger capacity of 12,000 with a crew capacity of 3,000. The passenger capacity was also almost double anything else that currently
existed.
It was considered a Super Galaxy class ship, a distinction created specifically for this single ship. VIP Star Cruise Line promised two others even
larger than this ship would follow. Good thing that never happened.
There was not a drydock in the world large enough to accommodate the Coliseum's construction so VIP Star Cruise Line built it's own at sea drydock.
It was literally a hole in the ocean that allowed the construction of this obscene menace of the oceans.
The ship was loaded via barge and passengers were taken, via the life boats, to their appropriate boarding area. Having to ride a life boat to the
Coliseum is disturbing ironic considering most of the passengers and crew never made it back to shore alive. Many didn't make it back to shore dead
either.
The Coliseum of the Oceans was unique in every way. For example, employees and contracted personal of VIP Star had a standard crew class and the
officers had their own officer class. Each of these two classes had their own sub-classes. Their paycheck was the ultimate determinate of what
sub-class they were admitted too. Passengers had seven classes to choose from; Bunk, Steerage, Coach, Business, Executive, Gold and Diamond.
The bunk class was a horrible option to offer passengers and one that played an important role in the Coliseum's ultimate plunge. Up to 60 people
would be stacked in one of three triple stacked bunks with 20 of these bunks per room, 10 on each side and a narrow open hallway between them.
On the other end of the spectrum was the diamond class with some grand suites exceeding 6,000 square feet.
The hundreds of thousands of dollars wealthy passengers paid for those suites was all for not as the first in a sequence of disasters unfolded, the
pirate raid.
How a ship this grand belonging to a company so eager to brag about it's safety record (again, all their ships are on the bottom of the world's
oceans) could allow mere pirates to shoot, unabated, and board the Coliseum is a crime by itself. The so-called security guards on the Coliseum had
to be the most insecure human beings ever to be placed in the line of fire in all of human history. Not only was it a waste to issue them firearms;
it was a waste to issue them employment.
The fact that at least one of those pirates carried a pandemic virus and passed it along to countless passengers and crew will have historians
wondering forever if that was by design on the part of the pirates were just the typical morbid luck that plagued the VIP Star Cruise Line company.
While passengers waited for a military rescue, they were instead relieved of the pirates by the pirates sudden death which was the direct result of
the pandemic nightmare that had quickly contaminated the entire passenger and crew roster.
People were dropping dead, literally, faster than pigeon droppings fell onto a beach. A military battleship secured itself 5 miles away, clearly
reluctant to offer any assistance and wisely so.
Most disturbing were the passengers and crew who seemed to be strong enough to beat death but still not strong enough to overcome the disease. In
horrible agony, they roamed the ship in what appeared to be a near zombie state, putting terror and horror into the few passengers who managed to
remain well as the sick roamed around desperately seeking relief.
In all of this chaos, it is believed an infected member of the bridge put the ship in gear by accident during his agony. The Coliseum powered, in
what had to be a merciful state, toward the nearest iceberg.
In what almost seemed like the most predictable script ever, it struck the iceberg and the Coliseum became as infected with water as it's souls were
infected with disease.
As the ship began to sink, barely abled passengers and crew tried in vain to board the life boats and get away but the horrible agony that afflicted
the infected prevented any level of normalcy that would have allowed escape.
Most disturbing was that, despite the cold temperature of the ocean, the infected seemed unaffected as they clumsily plopped off the sinking Coliseum
into the waiting waters.
As the barely well succumbed to death and the afflicted swam toward the destroyer, there was hardly a sailor on the California (how ironic!) that
wasn't motivated to defend it from what ever in the hell was coming it's way. All the while, the massive Coliseum disappeared below the water,
making horrendous sounds the entire way as it lunged deeper and deeper, seeking the ocean floor.
Meanwhile, on land, the world couldn't help but wonder if this was the end or the beginning.